


Threat

by goldenforestprince



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Berserker Thor (Marvel), Gen, Guilt, Injury, M/M, Minor Injuries, Revenge, Scheming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 09:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11552019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenforestprince/pseuds/goldenforestprince
Summary: Thor has trouble coming down from the high of battle. But when Loki gets attacked, Thor finds that letting go of the power that the berserker rage provides him is the last thing that Loki wants him to do.





	Threat

Thor sat on the edge of the bed, still breathing heavily. Golden strands were plastered to his face, dark with sweat. His knuckles were shredded to nothing. A patch of wet crimson dripped down his forehead, obscuring the sight in his right eye. Even his heart was reluctant to slow, still singing with the high of battle. He surely had bone-deep injuries that would come to be known as the battle trance wore off, but all things considered, he had gotten away with barely a scratch. The damage he had doled out on the pair of rogues had been brutal in comparison. And the taste of their blood had been so sweet a reward.

A splash of water drove the golden god from his thoughts. Forgetting himself, he turned to scan the dimly lit room, half a snarl already seated upon his lips as his fists tightened against the torn skin. A raven-haired beauty stood off to the side of the room, near the open doorway of a balcony. The guest paid the warrior no mind, his eyes lowered as he dipped a cloth into a simple stone basin. The reflection of the water glowed high above them on the marble ceiling, swaying back and forth in a tantalizing rhythm, drawing the blond’s wandering attention for a moment. Numbly, Thor returned his gaze to the visitor, and saw that the man was unarmed, but that hardly counted for much within the city’s walls. His body still craved the fight.

The slender youth noticed the brusque movement, and eyed him queerly. “Peace, Thor,” he said. “It’s me.”

The blond’s shoulders relaxed somewhat as the scene shifted into something more familiar. This was no longer a battle. He was back in the confines of the castle, in a chamber he recognized as his own. He nodded distractedly, to let the other know he was beginning to return to his senses. A deep inhale gave his heart the chance to slow. As Loki wet the cloth, Thor’s gaze reluctantly drifted over his features, taking note of his brother’s disheveled appearance. Aside from a purple bruise growing beneath one eye, nothing else seemed out of sorts, but Thor still found himself looking away guiltily once he spotted the broken skin.

The blond found himself speaking, hearing the words as though he were not the one to utter them. “You’re hurt.” Small as the injury was, had Thor acted sooner, even that may have been spared, and guilt gnawed at his gut like a mad hound.

“Indeed.” Loki reached up and brushed a fingertip lightly against the blemished skin. Something flashed within those verdant eyes, and he glanced to the doorway as if he could be overheard by someone just beyond it. He gave a moment’s pause, gaze considering rather than seeing, before he looked back to Thor, the distraction passed. “But you received far worse, brother. The healers assured me that the potions would have the pain masked for a time, but you must remain still for now.”

Thor’s brow knit together as memories began to fill the cracks in his mind. The warrior’s eyes chased the visions as they appeared to him, and suddenly, his gaze snapped up to Loki’s. “But they escaped. They must pay for what they did.”

Loki laughed, a peal of laughter as sweet as summer’s fruit. “Oh, absolutely. And they will. You might even be the one to kill them.”

Thor nodded slowly, appeased by the suggestion. He gave a pleased hum at Loki’s words, but it sounded at the back of his throat, transforming it into something akin to a growl. For what they had done to his brother, they would die. Slowly, excruciatingly, and by his hand. He would make them plead for freedom, then break them inch by inch, until instead they begged for death. “Yes. I would enjoy that very much.”

“Good,” Loki crooned, striding up to where Thor sat. His hands wrung over the cloth restlessly, and he flashed a nectar-sweet smile. When he spoke, his voice was lower, huskier. “Because tonight, they’re leaving the city. And we’re going after them.” Loki leaned in, dabbing at Thor’s forehead with the cloth. “Father always told us of how dangerous it is to travel alone at night. One never knows what manner of wild beast might descend from the mountains to prey upon careless travelers.”

A dark smile spread over Thor’s features. The delicacies of social politics were not something he found favorable to palate; he’d always found his fists to be far more convincing than his words. The mantle of man had always felt cumbersome and graceless. But here, Loki was offering him the chance to unleash his lust for battle and enact his revenge. 

His brother wanted him to be a beast? Aye, that he could do.

**Author's Note:**

> Have an idea for a fic you want me to write? Let me know in the comments! <3


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